Traces of Delilah

Ten

I wasn't sure what possessed me to utter these next few words. Maybe it was how distraught he looked as he stood there with his arms crossed. Maybe it was because I finally had him alone. Maybe it was because Delilah wanted to talk to him and missed him so badly, I could feel it, though she was no longer here. Whatever it was, I was crazy enough to say it.

"Tell me about Delilah." The expression on Thomas' face as soon as I said those words could only be described as petrified. His bottom lip shut as fast as he'd let it and his eyes were wide, his pupils expanding to an unusual degree.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I know. That was very bold and abrupt," I seethed at myself for not better thinking that through, "okay, the truth is . . . Thomas, I lied about the bracelet."

It seemed like he wanted to say something but I didn't give him a chance to counter-in when I spoke again, "I found it in my room when I moved into Skylar's house. But, well, I didn't know how you'd react if I told you the truth. I wasn't sure who it belonged to, or why you were asking about it . . . until I saw the reports about what happened and well, yeah. . ."

I was sugar coating the truth. I knew that. But there was so much to learn, and I didn't know what I was getting myself into. For all I knew, him and Thomas weren't on good terms when she was alive. Or maybe they were friends. Those were all unanswered questions in my head.

His eyes did the talking for him as he stared at me. But he soon let out a hard laugh. "I knew I wasn't crazy. I gave Delilah that bracelet as a gift." 

"Funny enough, it ended up in my hands," I said.

He ignored my comment and continued rambling, "You want to know about Delilah, huh? How much did the articles tell you? That she was a sociopath with a mental disorder? Or that she was bullied so much she snapped and took her family with her? Oh, and there's my favorite! She was being abused by her parents."

"Something like that. . ." I answered with caution.

His jaw clenched. "Well, it's all bullshit. The media conjures up whatever they can to cover a good story, including changing the narrative if they're that desperate."

"Well, what is the narrative then?"

"Delilah." He stopped and sighed. By now, it felt like he was having a conversation with himself. "The Delilah I knew wouldn't lay a hand on anyone. S-she was kind-hearted and funny. She loved her family. And her family loved her so much. Sure, they were strict. But they weren't abusive.

"She helped others even if it got her in trouble and people in this God damn town took advantage of that. She was a girl who was being harassed and she didn't tell anyone. Not even me. She was—" 

"Everything but a murderer," I finished his sentence.

He sucked in a heap of air and laughed under his breath. "Yeah. That."

"So, what else could have happened?"

He bit his bottom lip and uncrossed his arms. "I. . . I guess I didn't know Delilah. . . Listen I don't care what you do with that thing, but take care of it, okay?" He pointed to the bracelet then quickly turned around. "It's expensive and it holds a lot of value. Please."

"What the hell happened to him?" Jace commented as Thomas stormed out of the store. "Did you strike a nerve? You should know he has a short temper."

"Yeah. I've noticed," I mumbled and turned to Jace. I was still caught up with what happened myself. He spoke about Delilah so passionately, then it was an immediate mood switch.

"You know, he's still in denial."

I narrowed my eyes and cocked my head to the side. "So, you heard everything? What was the point of you asking what's wrong with him if you were eavesdropping?"